


Understatement of the Year

by vandal_aria



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Autumn, Chocobos, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27530374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vandal_aria/pseuds/vandal_aria
Summary: Stressed out and desperate for some normality, Noctis and Prompto take a day trip to the harvest festival at Wiz’s Chocobo Post.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Understatement of the Year

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of a meandering slice of life about two people trying to make the best of a bad situation, with h/c. As much as I love Gladio, I’m not especially kind to him here, just fyi. No one is handling their stress well.

“Um, Noct…are you sure about this?” Prompto could think of at least ten reasons why this outing was a bad idea as he buckled his seatbelt, ranging from complex feelings about going to a corn maze while there’s a war on, to the very simple ‘Ignis mad.’

“What? I am one thousand percent sure about this.” Noctis pulled the brim of his baseball cap down and put the car into gear with an almighty lurch. He still wasn’t the best driver. Once they were rolling forward, he shoved a pamphlet at Prompto’s chest. “Here, look at the schedule.”

“I don’t…need you to do this.” Prompto opened the pamphlet, more to avoid looking at Noct than anything. He prodded the massive bruise on his ribs, feeling a mildly swollen lump over a fracture that was still healing. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I don’t know, the chocobo costume contest seems like a big deal to me,” Noct replied lightly. He pulled the car onto the main road; luckily the traffic was wide open. 

Prompto tried to examine why he felt so frustrated. It wasn’t just the persistent pain in his side, though that was definitely clouding his brain and doing a lot to keep him up at night. Ignis had said it might take months for it to go away entirely. It was more the feeling of helplessness, of knowing that the smallest slip-up could put him out of commission for weeks because he knew they couldn’t spare the cash or the supplies to heal it faster. Not for him.

“I….” Prompto bit his lip before he did something regrettable like cry, and turned to look out the window.

Noct was quiet for a moment, radiating a measured calm that Prompto couldn’t hope to match with the way his anxiety was spiking uncontrollably day after day since the injury, watching his friends falter on their mission, in a holding pattern while he was laid up and useless. Once, the previous week, he tried to convince them leave him somewhere and keep on until Noctis shoved a rainbow sprinkle donut in his mouth to shut him up. He could tell Gladio was thinking it over and he figured his logic was sound. 

The next morning, however, Prompto had woken up to Noct sleeping right up against his uninjured side. While this behavior wasn’t totally unheard of in the tent, he usually hogged so much of the bedding and flailed around enough it would wake Prompto several times in the night. That time, he had been still and quiet to the point Prompto was pretty sure he was faking it.

“Is this about the other day?” Noct suddenly asked, breaking Prompto out of his spiraling thoughts. “You know that’s bullshit, right?”

Prompto sighed and leaned back in the seat, shifting around while he unsuccessfully trying to get comfortable. “Gladio agrees with me.”

“Let’s be honest, Gladio can be a prize asshole sometimes.”

Prompto was startled enough to laugh, tentatively. “Sometimes?”

“No, you’re right, he’s an asshole all the time,” Noctis laughed. “It doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you.”

“Sure,” Prompto said uncertainly. He picked up the pamphlet for Wiz’s Pumpkin Festival again, desperate for a distraction from this conversation and the pain. It was a cheap photocopy on orange paper, featuring an endearing drawing of a chocobo with some pumpkins and corn stalks. Inside, the schedule boasted chocobo wagon rides, the maze, the costume contest, and all sorts of harvest goodies to buy.

Noct’s phone started ringing and Prompto tried to reach for it, but he wasn’t fast enough. Without even waiting for reply, Noct said, “No, I’m not turning around. Stay mad about it, dickface,” and hung up.

Prompto was speechless. Noctis was so rarely ill-tempered with his friends that it shook him a little bit to hear true ire directed at one of them. “Wow. Dickface?”

Noctis shrugged, yet he looked a bit apprehensive. “You’re not the only one that needs a break.”

After that, Prompto felt a little less anxious, though he didn’t really feel like talking. He jabbed at the radio buttons until he found something they both liked, periodically scanning around to avoid commercials. Ignis found that extremely distracting and hated when he did it, and he got a little thrill out of not having his hand swatted away. Maybe Noct was right and they were all a little on edge.

They were both quiet the rest of the ride, and Prompto put his seat back to enjoy the autumn sunlight streaming in. When they arrived, the first indication was the smell of fresh popcorn wafting around the bend, and Prompto realized he was feeling hungry for the first time in a while.

There was a goofy scarecrow attached to the sign, with a face that was badly stitched on with some red yarn. It was so adorably folksy that it was actually a little bit horrifying. Noct said, “I wouldn’t want to sleep within ten miles of that thing.”

“It’s definitely going to murder someone,” Prompto added.

Noct pulled into the parking area and jogged around the car to give Prompto a hand getting out. Walking wasn’t bad, but the effort of changing positions tended to flex his core muscles in ways that triggered a spike in pain. Even so, Prompto was breathing hard by the time they reached the seating area to have something to eat. Noctis left him to order at the counter, returning with a tray full of harvest treats—hot apple cider with cinnamon sticks, the caramel popcorn that smelled so good, pumpkin pie with whipped cream on top, and even a few chocobo-shaped candies.

Everything was delicious, or maybe Prompto was just starved for something besides canned beans and bluegills. Wiz himself stopped by their table as he mingled with the guests. “If you boys really want to see something special, you should have a look at my pumpkins. There’s some proper big ones this year.” He looked massively proud of himself as he pointed to one arranged decoratively on a large antique farm scale. It was near the size of a baby garula; Prompto had never seen a vegetable that big.

“Dunno, doesn’t look that big,” Noct said after a beat. Prompto almost spit out his cider.

Wiz gave a dismissive wave and started to move on, “Just you wait.”

“Dude,” Prompto said, once Wiz was out of earshot. He was trying very hard not to laugh, but only because it hurt. _That’s what she said_ seemed way too easy to bother saying out loud.

Noct gave him a thumbs up as he chugged the last of his cider. “Let’s go look at these giant pumpkins.”

“Are you sure they’re gonna be big enough for you?” Prompto couldn't resist one more innuendo.

Noct shrugged as he cleaned up the remains of their meal. “We’ll see,” he answered enigmatically.

By the time they made it over to the loading zone for the tractor pull that would take them out to look at the obscenely large pumpkins Wiz was boasting about, Prompto’s fractured rib was screaming at him to stop moving. He sat heavily on the bench, droplets of sweat sliding down the sides of his face. His vision was swimming from the pain; the over-the-counter painkillers Ignis had gotten him were definitely wearing off, not that they did much anyway. Regardless, he’d left the bottle back at the tent.

Noct sat down next to him, close enough to shield Prompto somewhat from the two nosey children waiting with their mother for the tractor to arrive. Prompto was grateful to not have his weakness broadcast to an audience of strangers, but he also realized he was going to need help to walk any further, and that was a problem.

“Umm…Noct? This might not have been our smartest idea ever,” Prompto said with a slight, nervous laugh that made him wince and suck in a breath.

“No shit,” he replied, apologetic. “Let’s just go back to the car.”

“Yeah,” Prompto said, distracted by a weird distortion in his field of vision. He felt like he couldn’t catch his breath and hold himself still at the same time. He held onto Noct’s arm and let him pull him to his feet, but he still only made it about ten steps before his vision grayed out completely and he felt his knees hit the ground.

He came to with Noct, Wiz, and, embarrassingly, both of the little kids and their mother peering at him from above. One of the kids was fanning him with a paper fan printed with chocobos from Wiz’s shop.

“Deep breaths, kiddo,” Wiz said kindly, waving off the mom and her children with a reassuring smile. 

Prompto tried filling his lungs experimentally—there was an ache, but it wasn’t nearly what he was expecting. Noct was holding an empty potion bottle, he realized, and his face burned with shame at the waste of supplies.

“Better?” Wiz patted Prompto’s shoulder and then hoisted him upright when he nodded. “That’s the trouble with broken ribs, pain makes you breathe funny. You’ll be okay.”

Sitting up, he could see there were other visitors looking at him and Prompto sort of wished he hadn’t woken up. He stared at his hands in his lap while Noct thanked Wiz for his help. His name would be worse than mud after this, he’d never hear the end of it from Gladio. His tenure with the group would be hanging by a thread.

“Hey…let’s get something to drink and sit by the chocobos for a while, yeah? ” Noct said, his tone soft and his hands gentle as he pulled Prompto to his feet without so much as a grunt of effort.

Prompto often forgot how strong Noct was, and it shook him out of his anxious thoughts for a moment. They were standing close enough that Prompto could feel the brush of warm fabric against his arm and catch the flecks of sunlight in Noct’s eyes. There wasn’t anything complicated about his expression, just a soft sort of worry that sent a quiet eddy of reassurance along Prompto’s fraying nerves. He suddenly really wanted a hug.

“You good?” Noct asked, resting a hand on Prompto’s arm. 

“Uhh…I think so. Except for my manly pride.” Prompto offered a nervous laugh and ran a hand through his hair to stop himself from clinging. No part of this disaster of a day trip was a good look for Noct, and he wasn’t about to make it worse. His emotional turmoil could wait.

Noct didn’t look convinced, but he left Prompto alone anyway, momentarily under the care of one sleepy chocobo wearing a silly pumpkin hat that happened to be bundled against the corral fence. Prompto sat in the grass and leaned against the other side, sticking his hand through to run his fingers over its smooth wing feathers. As sweet as the creature was, petting it was a poor substitute for pressing up against Noct’s chest and feeling his arms wind around his back. Noct was pretty damn good at hugging, and Prompto guessed that was an acquired skill from having a good family life. Himself, he usually felt awkward about it, like he was all elbows and sharp chin. And he never knew how to ask, or when it was appropriate.

Prompto was so hung up on thinking about his shortcomings in physical affection, he didn’t notice Noct return until a drink was pressed into his hand. It was one of Wiz’s smoothie concoctions, with extra whipped cream.

Noct dropped across from him holding with a packet of chips. “Wiz says you should have some salt when you’re done with that. On the house.”

Prompto didn’t really feel like eating, but wasn’t about to argue and dutifully started sipping on the smoothie. It wasn’t exactly comfort food, but it was mild on his stomach. He found he couldn't meet Noct’s gaze, instead focusing on the shine in the chocobo’s feathers.

“You gotta stop doing this,” Noct finally said, exasperated.

“Doing what?” Prompto asked—a last, weak attempt to avoid the conversation he’d guessed was coming. A conversation he was not mentally prepared to have right then.

“Hiding how hurt you are. I can’t…do anything…if you won’t tell me something’s really wrong.” Noct paused and shoved one of the fries in his mouth. He clearly didn’t want to be having this conversation, and Prompto couldn’t blame him.

Noct continued when Prompto chose silence. “Look, it doesn’t matter what the others think in the end. It’s not their call, it’s mine. I don’t know what else to say to make you believe _I need_ you around.”

Prompto exhaled the anxious breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Fuck, I keep forgetting you’re, like, the actual king now.”

“Astrals help us,” Noctis said with a slight smile. He scooted over on the grass until they were shoulder to shoulder, and curled his arm around Prompto’s back. Prompto leaned into his warmth, butting his forehead against the side of Noct’s face, feeling his arm tighten carefully around him. He’d wanted this so badly that felt almost unreal.

“This is probably the worst roadtrip ever.” Noct sighed. He set the bag of fries on his lap and started eating them in earnest; there probably wouldn’t be any left within thirty seconds.

That finally drew a chuckle from Prompto. He didn’t feel entirely secure, but the tender, hollow spot in his chest felt a whole lot smaller. “Understatement of the year.”


End file.
